


Strangers in the mirror

by Klloggs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Clones, Gen, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, ffh just doesn't happen, no one else was going to do it so it might as well be me, thing about science is i don't understand it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klloggs/pseuds/Klloggs
Summary: A disgraced genetist, a teenage boy with sticky hands and a test tube walk into a bar---MCU clone saga self-indulgence fic.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, if you squint
Kudos: 8





	Strangers in the mirror

The first time he opened his eyes, he awoke to a slaughter house.

Bodies, faces he vaguely recognized in the back of his muddled mind, piled up underneath him, some even toppled on top of his bare skin, sandwiching him between stacks of decaying flesh and the sweet stench of death.

Over his head he could see a distant light: almost dream-like, far away from his touch.

The faint sting at the base of his neck he’d, until then, assumed was just a part of being alive was then joined by a symphony of electric jolts seizing his every muscle. His eyes watered and his vision blurred.

The first use of his vocal cords was a scream.

* * *

Peter sloppily put his shoes back on as he ran in the empty hall.

He’d blurted a shitty excuse to jump ship halfway through class to go deal with whatever was making the crime alert system in his suit go _haywire._

It’d been a break-in at one of the various chemical shops he himself rotated through to avoid suspicion while getting the materials for his webs. Turns out it's kinda hard to make web fluid in chem class when it's summer. One of life's many pitfalls.

Weird thing about the situation though, was that the store itself was pretty much untouched.

The breaking, the entering, the whole shebang was clean, _clinical_ even. 

The chemicals stolen were taken in specific quantities, and had apparently been consistently vanishing for the past few years. Long enough that there was no reason to suspect them missing by the time the current staff rolled around after the-- the _blip_.

Whoever this guy was --or girl, uh, person. MJ had been very direct about him needing to re-evaluate his personal biases-- was _really good._ Like Ant-Man good.

The only reason the crime had been found out in the first place was because an employee had found what was described as a _“weird looking dude in all black,mask and all, passed out just out of the back entrance”_ , apparently said _dude_ had then woken up and lightly assaulted the employee before taking off _by someraulting onto a_ **_roof_ **, leaving the missing chemicals behind.

Which was _concerning_ to say the least.

A frantic 911 call later Peter got a text in his phone, and now here we are.

Figures that weirdos in spandex would take advantage of what was essentially a 5 year gap year for the superhero industry at large, doesn’t mean it isn’t still a pain in the ass.

There was no time to keep _figuring_ as he stepped back into the classroom. From a glance he could tell it was long over, only the teacher left to clean up her desk before heading home for the day.

“Hey.” he waved gingerly “Sorry about-- the… runs…”

They held eye contact for a bit too long as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in mortification.

The teacher gave him a questioning look before setting her things on the desk and taking a step towards Peter.

“Mr. Parker,” she said with an impossibly patient tone “I understand.”

“I--” she cut him off

“Re-adjusting to our new normal,” she gesticulated lightly, making the smallest of circles with her hands “it’s _hard._ Sometimes it’s overwhelming, I get it if you need a moment to yourself.”

It-- It _has_ been hard. Without Tony, or the avengers. The world is spiralling and these days finding lost bikes didn’t feel like it was cutting it anymore.

“Listen. So long as your grades don’t dramatically slip, I’m willing to cut you some slack.” she put a hand on his shoulder “You’ve got a lot of potential in you, Peter. I’m sure of that.”

She gave him a light smile. Her voice held a note of amusement as if she was in on a joke.

Peter smiled, taken aback by the Parker luck working in his favor for once.

“Thank you, Ms. Warren.”

* * *

Sterile coldness welcomes him as he stumbles gracelessly into the lab, panting through the faint erratic hissing of his suit.

Spotting the area where _mother_ likes to rest in-between tests, he takes the plush swivel chair and collapses into it with a grunt.

Seeing as the usually sealed suit did nothing to soothe the agonizing pain ravaging his body, he simply discards the mask. 

The cool air makes contact with his clammy skin granting him the tiniest bit of relief.

His hair is cropped short and an array of vine-like scars trace his features, his eyes, though shut at the moment, are a dark brown, the right one now slightly cloudy from the illness that’s plagued him since birth. 

Then the heavy metal door opens and _she_ enters.

Massive tubes filled with lightly tinted, clear liquid line the wall and her heels click as she makes her way in.

“My boy.” she barely glances his way as she walks to her work table “You look worse for wear.”

“The-- The suit--” he crosses his arms and grips at his sleeves “it’s not working.”

“I see.” 

She looked at him as he joined her at her desk, studying the suit. 

Once he got close enough to properly inspect he kneeled to allow her to do so, towering over her in his natural height. Well, as natural as his circumstances allowed. 

“It’s in one piece.” 

“Yes”

 _“_ Be quiet.” 

The woman then turns his jaw to inspect the extent of the damage, her expression as fascinated as it is frustrated. She shoves him to signify she’s done with him.

“You’ve seen the schematics, boy.” she goes back to her work “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Right.” he swallowed, unsure of his ability of working with circuitry at the moment

“Oh and another thing,”

“Yes?”

“Don’t _ever_ come back to me empty handed again.”


End file.
